


Just a Lot of Hocus Pocus

by outlawrites



Category: South Park
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Asexual Character, At least that's what he wants everyone else to think, But I like her so I always kind of bump up her importance in things I think, Craig giving not even one shit, Does it count as a character death when it's Kenny McCormick?, Friendship, Homophobic Language, I like Ruby too but haha yeah she fits with her family, I removed the Major Character Death warning cause I guess most people don't consider Karen a main, I'm making this sound hella dark but it's mostly emotional torture TBH, If you liked the movie you'll PROBABLY like this, Love, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Other, torture mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outlawrites/pseuds/outlawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Craig "Dennison" moves to a new town, he expected to have no friends. He expected to hate the un-boring direction his life had taken. He expected to still argue with his sister, Ruby. What he didn't expect was to befriend an immortal boy cursed to be a talking cat 300 years ago.</p><p>The damn witches were a surprise too. Ugh.</p><p>{Hocus Pocus / South Park crossover with a few twists}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 300 YEARS IS A LONG TIME

Kenneth Binx had just stumbled home after drowning his grief in a late night tryst with the blacksmith’s son when his life changed forever. He reached his family homestead, toeing off his shoes at the door so as not to wake anyone and peeked blearily in the door of Kevin and Karen’s room.

But Karen was _gone_.

Kenneth felt a cold chill spike his heart and spread over his whole body. He rushed forward and shook Kevin, but his elder brother wouldn’t waken. Kenneth hissed. Kevin must have been in his cups again. Kenneth whirled and sped back out of the house again, not even bothering to put his shoes back on again by the door.

Halfway across the back of the property, Kenny saw his neighbor Douglass, who was hugging himself against the wee hours’ chill and staring out at the woods from his family’s animal pens.

“DOUGIE! Hast thou seen my sister, Karen?!”

Dougie shook his head rapidly, nearly dislodging his glasses. “Nay. But look!” he said, holding one trembling hand aloft, pointed toward the tree-line. “They conjure” he murmured solemnly.

Kenneth, terrified and ill at heart, let his eyes follow the direction Dougie indicated and saw a plume of unnatural colored smoke rising from the dark heart of the woods. He let out a strained, horrified whisper. “They _conjure_? But he hath _sworn_ -”

Dougie shrugged miserably, hugging himself tighter. “His oaths are not in his power to keep. Not anymore, Kenneth. You know perhaps best of all…”

Kenny nearly sobbed with terror and fury- but then a thought stole his breath. “KAREN. The woods!” He bounced from foot to foot- restless with panicked indecision. “Even _now_ they wouldn’t-!?”

Dougie shook his head rapidly “You know tis possible. You KNOW-”

Kenny hissed. He leaned over the fence, grabbing the front of Dougie’s shirt. “ _Wake_ our parents. Summon the _elders_! I’m going after her!”

Dougie was still shaking his head, horror-struck “Tis no GOOD Kenneth! She’s _done_ for!”

“GET THEM!” Kenny roared, shaking the front of Dougie’s shirt and then pushing him away. Not sparing another moment he sped off barefoot through the wood, barking his shins and stubbing his toes and falling down hills at terrifying speeds. He barely felt it. He picked himself up.

He ran on.

Kenneth’s mind was too wholly occupied to do more than run as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t even know what he’d do when he arrived to face such powerful adversaries. Only two thoughts could be kept in his mind: “KAREN! _PLEASE,_ _No!_ ” and “KAREN!? How COULD thee, Leo? How COULD thee _bear_ to, even now? Hast though fallen so _far_?”

* * *

 

But when Kenneth reached the old Sanderson property at the heart of the woods, sure enough, there they both were. His former friend Leopold, aged and twisted but still spritely in step, was leading Kenneth’s beloved sister across the threshold to hell- and to Leo’s hellspawn siblings.

Kenneth felt that same great sob rising in his chest and muffled it in favor of sneaking close to the cottage with as much grace and stealth possible. When he climbed into the Sanderson loft, what he saw downstairs stripped his already labored breath clean away.

His sister Karen, beatific and peaceful as a saint was sitting in a chair at the far end of the room, her hands folded benignly in her lap. She did not seem afraid, but neither did she seem to be aware of her surroundings.

Eric was cackling by the large cauldron bequeathed to the Sanderson sons when their controlling hag mother had passed from the world. Clyde was tromping around beside him, devotedly offering up potion ingredients. And there- there ignoring the whole situation and dancing with cheerful distraction in the corner- Leopold.

All three appeared ancient. Splintered wrecks of their former selves.

Kenneth’s eyes slid shut without his will. _So, tis all true, what the townsfolk say. It hath come to pass just as the old bitch promised_.

_I am sorry, Kyle. I am sorry, Stanley. I should hath believed in full when thou disappeared._

But there was no time to dwell. Kenny’s eyes slid open, taking in the scene again. _No time at all, not whilst they possess Karen_.

Kenneth, breathless, slunk through the loft, trying to hear the Sanderson sons’ conversation. _For_ ** _what_** _did thy need her?_ And then the thought rose again, more agonized _Why? Why_ ** _Karen_** _?_

Part of his answer came soon enough.

“And then, brothers, _ohooo_ then~” Eric preened as he consulted their mother’s hellish tome. “Once we hath drained _ev’ry_ drop of vitality from the little wench, we shall be young and handsome once more.”

Leo still ignored this, now enthusiastically examining a beetle crossing the floor, but Clyde fanned himself in excitement. “And then, Eric?”

“HAH. I had thought the course of our endeavor to be rather _obvious_ \- once we drain THIS child, we shall drain ALL the children in Salem! And then,” he went on, a feverish look in his eyes “then we shall live _forever_.”

Kenny’s heart raced. _Dear God, how can Thou have_ ** _allowed_** _this? ANY OF THIS?_ His eyes swept the scene, and his limbs shook with horror. _**Look** at them now! How am I to protect her? How are we to escape when there are _**_three_** _of them?_ A new, terrible thought introduced itself. _I daren’t even guess if Karen can be waked from this enchantment to make escape on her own feet_.

The whole situation felt terrifically bleak.

Kenny tried vainly to get Karen’s attention without attracting the Sandersons’, but eventually gave it up. He had to find a way out. He couldn’t fail. Not again. _Not for Karen_. Not like-

But Eric was raising the huge wooden ladle to Karen’s mouth. “Open your mouth, Binx-brat,” he murmured, his voice mockingly sweet.

Kenny had lost the advantage of time. He leapt from the loft, his white shirt billowing behind him like a cloak, and landed on the cottage floor. _Let’s hope that entrance was suitably impressive, and they don’t notice I’m robbed of breath._

The Sandersons swiveled away from Karen.

“A BOY!” crowed Leopold, delighted.

Eric’s face purpled with rage, but the hand holding his brew to Karen’s face did not waver. “Showing thy filthy urchin face _here,_ Binx?” He sneered. “Truly I thought thee possessed of better sense.”

“STEP THEE AWAY FROM KAREN, THOU HAG’S SONS!” Kenny’s panic was blinding him to battle strategy. They had all played at wars together as children (did they remember none of that?) but this- this was no game.

Clyde was sidling up closer to Kenny slyly, while Eric smiled imperiously, his eyes gleaming with vicious pleasure.

And Leo… to Kenny’s misery (but no longer surprise) he was moving forward too, devoid of malice- but also of recognition. His gaze was keen on Kenny’s figure, and he bit at his own lip hungrily.

Kenny avoided the two of them swiftly, half of his attention caught up in watching Eric and that damned ladle.

“GET HIM, FOOLS!” Eric barked. “And YOU!” he snarled, addressing Kenny “Stay AWAY from my POTION!”

Kenny bared his teeth defiantly, now dancing closer to the swaying cauldron, now back away to avoid Clyde and Leopold.

Eric was nearly incandescent with rage “DO YOU HEAR ME? _Respect_ thee my _AUTHORITY_ , BOY!”

But Kenny spilled the potion.

And Kenny tried to knock aside the ladle.

And Kenny- in a last ditch desperate effort- struck at Eric and tried to waken his sister. His poor dear sister, with her eyes that were so placid and blank. But that was as far as Kenneth Binx got that evening.

Because that’s when furious Eric beat him down with a new power from his dead witch mother- strikes of lightning arcing with hissing crackles from his fingertips, called forth through a combination of curses and cursing.

And that’s when Kenny was rendered so broken by the attack that he could not leave the floor.

And that was when Kenny _failed_. He lay there _useless, useless_ and incapacitated on the floor while they murdered Karen.

He wanted to shut his eyes. He wanted to scream. But his body was still too shocked by the wild power of the lightning to let him open his mouth. And he _forced himself_ to watch- because then he knew it was real- and because _damn him_ along with the rest, Karen deserved that much at least. She deserved every sob of remorse he’d have time to utter before they got to him next. Their only hope was the townsfolk, but he knew…Kenny _knew_ -

It was over very quickly.

The Sandersons swept back away from Karen’s wizened little corpse and cackled, preening and delighting in their regained relative youth. They _danced_.

And then they came to him.

To Kenny’s disgust he had regained some control of his limbs. _Too late, too late_ , murmured his thoughts, feverish with pain and guilt and grief. _No good now!_

“Thou lesser-than dogs!” he hissed. “Thou weak, foolish, spiteful, EVIL creatures!” But it wasn’t enough. “Thou _HIDEOUS_ HAG-SONS!”

Eric had him suddenly, holding him aloft by the front of the shirt, shaking him like a child’s doll. “Dost this feel WEAK to thee, idiot child?? HM?” He threw him to the floor and stepped back. His eyes were flaming with spiteful fury, and his gaze never left Kenneth as he addressed the two men standing behind him.

“So! Whatever shall we DO with him~?”

Clyde spoke first. “Chop him to bits and slather him with spices!” Kenny struggled to pull up his beaten body with the loft’s ladder.

“Pin him to the ceiling a-an’, lemme play with him~” cooed Leo, reaching out with grabby hands- hands that Kenny had admired in what felt like a lifetime ago. He supposed for Leopold it had been, in some ways.

“NO!” said Eric abruptly, beckoning his book over with a crooked finger. “His punishment must be more _fitting_. More _lingering_.” Eric flipped through the pages of his cursed inheritance while the others looked on in devoted, mute awe. “HERE!” He pointed at the page.

He smirked at Kenny (who was still weakly panting, his mind reeling _Karen KAREN_ ) and he went on. “His punishment for his insulting interference shall not be to _die_ \- but to LIVE. Forever.” His cruel grin widened. “With his _guilt._ ”

Kenneth, horrified and desperate tried to lurch back away to effect an escape. _How does he know? How does he always know how to make it hurt the worst?_ But it was to no avail. His limbs were not under his command.

The Sandersons chanted and changed him, quivering and aching and twisting, into a black housecat. An _immortal_ black housecat.

And then, finally, as the deed was done, just in time to be _of no help at all_ -

The townspeople of South Salem arrived.

Binx don’t know why he’d ever let himself hope in the first place.


	2. This Is Stupid I Want To Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Craig Dennison, new (and thoroughly unimpressed) inhabitant of South Salem, who just wishes he could go back to being nice and boring in California.

“Poor Kenneth Binx~” said Mrs. Garrison. “No one, not his family or friends, ever found out what happened to the poor little bastard.” She shook her head mournfully. “They say his own father kicked at him, and the town drove him away whenever he tried to enter, believing him to be a hell-damned familiar the Sandersons left behind.”

She moved dramatically through the room. “But despite the cruelty shown him by the town, they say on All Hallows Eve, if you pass the old Sanderson place, you can still see him- guarding the house. Ready to stop _anybody_ (especially you idiot virgins) from lighting the black-flame candle inside- in case it brings the witches. Back. To. LIFE!” At this last note Mrs. Garrison jumped into the face of a student who screeched and fell backwards.

“Cool story, bro” muttered Craig Dennison, absently sketching rockets in his notebook.

Mrs. Garrison whirled on him. “EX-CUSE ME? What did you just say??” Craig looked at her steadfastly.

“I said. Cool story.”

Mrs. Garrison rolled her eyes. She’d only had him in her class for a week and she was already tired of this kid’s shit. “And I suppose you’d like to offer us your chilled-out, don’t give a fuck, California point of view? Pleaaase, share with the class!”

Craig looked up from his drawing again. That sounded enough like a challenge that he needed to step up- so far no one at this new school knew his rep for being cold, unapproachable, and not worth messing with. That made opportunities like this social profile gold.

“Well, I mean, yeah. Clearly Halloween is a fun time to play _dress up_ , but that doesn’t mean I’m going to buy a bullshit story like that when the holiday was obviously made up by the candy companies.” There. That sounded sufficiently impressive.

“Wrong.” said a firm voice behind Craig. He felt all the blood in his face leave. Wendy Podbury.1 Wendy was half the reason he was trying to look especially cool in this class. _Ohhh shit_.

Wendy continued. “Halloween comes from the ancient festival of All Hallows Eve. A 5 second Google search could have taught you that. And it’s the only night the dead are supposedly able to return to the land of the living, so people ‘played dress up’ to ward off or blend in with the spirits.”

 _Okay. This is okay. Play it cool. Wendy’s a rational person. She can’t believe in this garbage. It’s gotta be a test. Yes. A test. Think fast, Dennison._ “Well. If you ever need help warding off spirits, here’s my number.” While his mind screamed ( _No! Wrong answer! This is NOT what we wanted!!)_ Craig scribbled down his digits on a scrap paper and dropped it on her desk.

Wendy stared at him, then at the paper- and the bell rang.

 _Thank God_. Craig wanted to go home and crawl in a hole forever.

* * *

 

But of course his torment wasn’t over yet. Of course. Craig ran into Wendy outside as he was heading home, and immediately felt compelled to apologize for the scene in class.

“Hey. Sorry.”

Wendy blinked. She looked him up and down carefully. She shrugged. “Forgiven.” she said simply (and god if that didn’t just encapsulate everything Craig admired about her.)

But of course, Craig couldn’t just leave it there. “So. …you’re into all that stuff? Witches and monsters and shit?”

Wendy’s lips quirked into an amused half-smile, but her eyes told a story Craig couldn’t read. “Aren’t you?”

Craig shook his head. “Not really. I’m more into sci-fi than horror.”

“Hm.” Wendy seemed to be thinking. She reached into her pocket and withdrew a slip of paper. “Trick or treat,” she said, arching a brow. She turned and walked off without waiting to see his reaction.

 _Please, please think I’m cool_ , Craig thought desperately. _Everyone here is so **stupid** , I miss **Jimmy** , I need someone else smart to **study** with GOD. _ He flipped open the paper to see... that it was just his own number back.

 _Of course_.

* * *

 

That MIGHT have been the end of it, but no, his special, _shitty_ day wasn’t fucking over, because he just HAD to take the shortcut home, and two idiots accosted him en route.

Craig had seen Bill Allen and Fosse McDonald around town before, and only knew who they were because he constantly heard old people talking about their delinquent activities. He had reserved his opinion about this matter, because most of the shit he liked could be deemed delinquent, frankly.

He was halfway through the cemetery when they popped up from behind a gravestone, smirking at him like they thought he’d be impressed or frightened (what was this? An episode of Yu-gi-oh?) Craig would have kept pedaling, but one of them (Bill? Fosse?) had stepped in front of his wheels. He ground to an abrupt halt and stared at them. They were giggling like morons and elbowing each other.

When Craig didn’t say anything, the laughter petered out to uncomfortable chuckles. One of the boys finally spoke.

“Uh. I’m Bill. And this is Fosse-” The other boy abruptly pulled him down and whispered urgently.

“ _No_. I’m not Fosse anymore, remember? It’s ICE. ICE. Fosse was totally gay.” He released Bill, who giggled.

“Ahaha, yeah, yeah, Fosse was totally gay. HAH.” He turned back to Craig. “This is Ice.”

Craig stared. “No.”

“Ehehe…What?”

“I said, _no_. I don’t care what you want from me, you’re not getting it. I’m going now. Good bye.”

Bill and Fosse (Craig refused to call him “Ice”, no moron with so little chill deserved to be called “Ice”) gawked at him and tried to stop him. Clearly they had intended to take SOMETHING from him, and Craig didn’t intend to let them _attempt_ to intimidate him for 20 damn minutes while he figured what it was. In the struggle, Craig got a cut lip and lost his shoes, but managed to escape on his ten-speed.

“Thanks gay-boy! Love the shoes!” yelled Fosse across the gravestones.

“HAHA yeah! You’re totally gay! Great shoes! Thanks!”

Craig ignored them to keep pedaling, his breath labored from the scuffle, his heart pumping anxiously for more reason than one.

 _They don’t know_ , Craig reminded himself calmly. _They call **everything** that_. _I remember now, from seeing them around._ Yesterday one of them had called the _sky_ gay.

* * *

 

Craig Dennison hated this chilly hellhole.

He missed California like an ache under every centimeter of his skin. He had no friends here, it was all different and strange and FUCKING COLD. And no one here knew his reputation so they kept trying to _talk_ to him.

And besides those a-holes in the cemetery today, someone tried to _bully him at school_ (omg. Seriously?) because they didn’t _know_ that he didn’t _care_ enough about anything to be bothered by it and DAMMIT it had taken years to build a persona that people respected enough but mostly ignored.

And now he had to start all over.

He’d never really cared about anyone’s opinion. Or that’s what he wanted them to think anyway…

But dammit, it was different with Wendy Podbury. Did he want to date her? No. Craig Dennison was gay as hell. _Not that anyone back home knew it_.

Not that he planned on telling anyone here.

But, Craig thought, wearily annoyed, that is why I am still a virgin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 In the original script, Alison’s ancestor is mentioned, a white witch named Elizabeth Podbury. It is implied the witches killed/ate her.  
> \---------------  
> Well! That's a new record for me- two chapters in a night, hoo boy. I'm just gonna keep pushing and see how much I can get posted. If anyone's enjoying it so far, maybe let me know? 
> 
> Happy Halloween everyone!


	3. The Road To Free Candy Never Did Run Smooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig talks to Stripe about life, Ruby puts herself in the running for a Terrible Little Sister contest, and Craig learns what happens when you anger the spirit of Halloween.

Craig spoke to his guinea pig after school fairly often, usually while feeding Stripe his supper. It helped him sort out his thoughts. Today was no exception.

“I want her to think I’m cool, you know? She’s just so _put together_.” Stripe was usually having an active period during these hours (but not always) so Craig always felt lucky to catch him awake. He felt a little less crazy talking to Stripe about Wendy when his pet was at least conscious to hear it. He ran a finger over Stripe’s fur.

“I mean, in most of our classes, she has the answers all the time. And when she _doesn’t_ put her hand up? You can just _tell_ it’s because she’s _really_ paying attention because she wants to _know_ what the answers are.” Craig sighed. Stripe chirruped at him and nosed against his hand. Craig smiled.

“Thanks buddy. I mean, I guess if she were just SMART that would already be enough reason to think she’s cool, but on top of that she’s got this great attitude about adults. Ohh man. The way she stands up to our teachers when they’re fucking up?” He shook his head. “Makes me _almost_ wish I was straight, dude.”

Craig heard a muffled noise in his closet and whirled around. The doors burst open, and he suddenly saw the back of his sister as she rushed out of his room. His blood ran cold.

“RUBY. WHAT. THE. FUCK.”

There was no answer.

Craig closed Stripe’s enclosure carefully and then stalked angrily down the stairs to the hall of his sister’s room. “What the HELL were you doing in my fucking closet, Ruby?”

“Less than you’ve been doing apparently!”

Craig saw red. “OPEN UP YOU LITTLE JERKOFF.”

Ruby scoffed from the other side of the door. “What are you, stupid? When a dog barks at a squirrel they don’t jump down the tree to get eaten. I’m fine riiight here.”

Craig hissed, trying to get his breathing under control. “Alright but SERIOUSLY what the FUCK were you doing in there?”

Ruby sighed irritably. “I was _trying_ to save you some time and find a costume for you. You haven’t been talking about what you’re gonna wear, so I figured _I’d_ have to find something.”

“I haven’t been talking about it because I’m _not going_.”

Ruby’s door swung open. “What the hell? Why? You fucking _love_ Halloween.” She glared at him suspiciously.

“Correction,” said Craig forcefully. “I LOVED Halloween. In our old town. With my old friends. This place is lame, and no one my age will be going.”

Ruby’s angry look intensified. “That’s bullshit, they love this holiday here! Anyway- you don’t have a choice. Mom and Dad said you have to take me.”

Craig barked out a harsh laugh. “Like _hell_. If they want you to go so bad, THEY can bring you.” He turned to walk back to his room.

Ruby stamped her foot. “Dammit Craig, don’t be so stubborn! They can’t bring me. They’re going to some kind of party.” Craig couldn’t see her, but her voice got quiet. “…C’mon Craig. We used to have a really good time. You can go as whatever you want…”

But all Craig could see in his mind’s eye was _last_ Halloween. He’d spent the whole night trick or-treating with Ruby and Tweek, making them laugh by mocking other people’s costumes. (Granted, he’d also spent a lot of the night calming Tweek’s nerves about all the other costumes.) And trying to keep his heart in his chest, because this was _Tweek_. His friend. The anxious, artistic blond boy that he’d had a crush on since 4 th fucking grade. And he’d never gotten up the stones to tell him… _before they moved_. Here.

And when he _did_ tell him over the phone, unable to stand it anymore, a few days after the move? Well?

Well, at least they were still friends. But Tweek didn’t do _distance_.

“H-how would I r-really know it was you, man? And not like, a pod person or an impersonator or- nngh! I should stop talking about this. They could be _listening_.”

Fuck moving, fuck this place, and fuck Halloween just for good measure.

 

“NO, Ruby. I’m not fucking going this year.” He started making toward his room again.

“Wanna _bet_?” snarled Ruby. She ran halfway down the stairs, and then opened up her pipes in an unearthly shriek that made Craig cover his ears “MOOOOOOOOOOOOM”

And that, as they say, was the end of that.

 

* * *

 

Being forced into trick or treating by his little sister- check.

Being forced into pretending that he was wearing a costume by his Dad to please his little sister- check.

His parents cluelessly ignoring that he hadn’t come in with any DAMN SHOES ON today, but definitely narrowing their eyes over him not putting effort into his costume- fucking check.

But was it over? No. No of course not. The spirit of Halloween had looked upon Craig Dennison’s pitiful sacrifices and lack of holiday enthusiasm and decreed that his torment was to be prolonged.

They ran into fucking Bill and Fosse again. Ruby couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut or her finger down (to be fair, this was the appropriate response to Bill and Fosse) and now Craig had to fling his fucking candy bag at them and drag Ruby away before she tried to take on HALF THE BOYS IN HIS CLASS.

 

“Hey, dipshit! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?? You barely reach shoulder height on their shortest guy! And there were like SEVEN of them!”

Ruby glared at him. “I was _going_ to claw their eyes out. What were YOU doing? Hiding?”

Craig stared at her. “OhmyGod. Alright. Look. Done. I’m done with this shit. You just fucked over my rep in front of every idiot in this town. Now they know they can rip on me. Because of you. Good going, asshole.”

Ruby glared even harder, but her eyes were wet. “FINE. I’m done with you too!” And to Craig’s horror (but mostly, let’s be honest, complete exhaustion) she took off running down the street.

Craig pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Halloween. Wooo. Fun.” He headed off in the direction she’d run and caught up. She was sitting on a hay bale and punching the hell out of it, trying to pretend like she wasn’t crying. Ugh.

Craig prodded her shoulder, already braced for the punch sure to come. _Yup. Ow._

“GO AWAY.”

Craig pursed his lips irritably. “I can’t. There’s probably a law or something. Plus if you get killed, I’ll never get any allowance again.”

“GOOO. AWAAAAY!” she shrieked.

Craig’s eyes widened fearfully. JESUS when had she started doing that in PUBLIC? He clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’M SORRY. I’m sorry! Okay???” He tugged his hand back swiftly to avoid the guaranteed biting. “I just HATE this place. It’s cold, and shitty, and none of my friends are here.”

Ruby wasn’t looking at him, but her shoulders were slumped, and he heard her sniffling. He decided it was better to be honest. “And I miss Tweek.”

“Well you’re not the only one!” Ruby turned to face him, wiping her make-up with the back of her hand. He stopped her, grabbing a tissue from his pocket and dabbing carefully to avoid smudges. She went on. “I miss home too, you know! And my friends. AND Tweek.”

She frowned, batting his hands away. “It was nice having him around. Almost like a second brother. I just wish he was more sarcastic. I hated that he was too nervous to be around our parents.”

Craig sighed, his hands falling to his side. “Yeah. I mean,” he leveled a look at Ruby “it would probably help if everyone in our family weren’t such massive assholes.

Ruby shrugged. “But we ARE assholes, Craig.” She patted his hand. “We are. And you need someone who can work with that.”

 _Ah, shit._ “I’m not gonna say you’re wrong,” he muttered.

“Cause I’m not.” She shrugged again.

Craig sighed again. “Alright. Look. Let’s go get some more candy. I know you’re sure as fuck not gonna share, and those dickweeds took all mine.”

Ruby nodded. “Fair enough.” They stood, brushing the hay off themselves and looked around the area.

They looked at the MASSIVE house they’d somehow missed during their little therapy session on the hay bale. They stared. They looked at each other. They nodded and moved forward to the mansion.  A big house usually meant big gestures, which in this case probably meant they’d get sucked into some stupid Halloween activity. BUT- it also meant _bigger candy_.

Craig and Ruby had a very practical understanding for occasions such as this; most shit was worth putting up with if it meant you got free candy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps! I hope you don't mind the shorter chapter, but I'd rather give you a few shorter ones than make you wait for a long update. (This is, of course, presuming that anyone is even still reading this. Are you? I'm still enjoying this, but should I stop since the holiday is over, or...?)


	4. I Don't Want to Hold Your Hand, Just Your Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Craig and Ruby find out how rich people do Halloween, Craig prays for a sinkhole, and Ruby pulls ahead in the Terrible Little Sister contest by a mile.

Craig and Ruby knocked on the mansion’s front door as politely as they were capable. _Is it still just called a front door if it’s a mansion,_ Craig wondered idly as they waited for an answer. _Like, is there some fancy word for front door when you’re rich as shit?_   He snorted audibly, remembering when he’d been sleep deprived from exams and couldn’t even remember the word for a _regular_ front door. He’d told the pizza delivery guy to leave his order “next to the guest hole”.

… _Which reminds me- do I have any homework for Monday??_

Those thoughts would have to wait for another time though, because clearly no one was coming to the door, and Ruby was getting impatient.

“They left it open! We’re probably supposed to go into their lobby to get the candy.”

Craig stifled a laugh. “Foyer. I think it’s only called a lobby if it’s a hotel or something.”

Ruby eyed the structure “It’s big enough to be hotel,” she muttered. She looked at Craig, who shrugged. She returned the gesture. They shouldered their way cautiously into the mansion’s front room.

“Hello?” Craig heard people in the room nearby at some kind of fancy party. Despite the tasteful music and light chatter noises, his nasal voice still echoed strangely in the high-ceilinged room. “Is anybody-?”

“JACKPOT!” Ruby practically tripped over Craig’s feet to get to the enormous candy bowl set on a pedestal in the center of the room in front of the grand staircase.

Craig did a double take at the sheer _size_ of the cauldron and followed her swiftly, forgetting for a minute that he was a bitter, lonely 15 year-old in the face of this much _bounty_. “Holy _shit_ \- look how BIG these bars are.” He’d never seen anything like it in his entire Halloween-worshipping life. This was like the kind of score kids told stories about, the kind that became whispered stories, the kind-

Suddenly an amused voice echoed down into the room. “ _Craig_ Dennison.”

Oh. Oh _God_. He wasn’t so unlucky. He couldn’t be.

 _Of course I can be,_ Craig thought, feeling his soul abandon his fucking body and float away out of pure embarrassment. He looked up to the head of the staircase and there she was, standing regally in some gorgeous, old-looking dress and barely holding back her laughter.

“Wendy. Um. Hi.” His hands released the handfuls of candy swiftly but with no small reluctance. “Is this…your house?” In a frantic attempt to buy time and avoid looking at her, his eyes swept around the room as though he were just seeing it. _It’s not even a house, idiot_ , screamed his mind, _more like ‘Is this your ESTATE?’_ _oh God you are never going to impress her at this rate. This is **desperately** uncool._

Wendy descended the staircase, her lips still twitching in amusement. “Happy Halloween, Craig.”

Craig’s soul made a concerted effort to hop states and escape back to California. Nothing happened. Clearly, the spirits of Halloween were not done with his _penance_.

“And no, this isn’t my house,” Wendy said as she neared the end of the staircase.

_Oh thank fuck yes, she’s just a guest-_

“It’s Token’s,” Wendy finished calmly, arriving at the end of the stairs, raising one eyebrow.

 _SHIT_. Wendy’s friend Token was the richest, most impressive boy in town. Despite all he had going for him, he also was a decent person and had a great sense of humor. He was also a person on the list of people Craig wanted to befriend, and now, _now_ , he was going to hear about…this.

Wendy eyed the bowl on the pedestal and then looked back at Craig. Is that why you said all that stuff in class about Halloween…? Because actually, you just really LOVE candy?”

Craig felt his mouth tense into something that was neither a smile not a frown, precisely. He opted for a half truth. “Yes. I love candy.”

Wendy grinned, a crack in her aloof line of questioning. “Well, who doesn’t, really?” She glanced over at Ruby who was barely giving them notice, choosing instead to root through the bowl for her favorites.

 _I hope nobody else here likes Heath Bars_ , Craig thought numbly. _God, what a mess_.

“Well! You’re certainly not afraid to go for what you want!” said Wendy approvingly. “Keep that attitude and apply it to things other than candy and you’ll go far.”

Ruby blinked, finally paying full attention to the other person in the room. If there was anything Ruby hated, it was unsolicited opinions or advice from strangers. A prickly, shared family trait, really. Her eyes wandered over Wendy swiftly and Craig could just _see_ the wheels turning in her head.

 _Nooo. Oh no. oh God_.

Ruby smirked around a half-wrapped chocolate bar. She bit off the piece in her mouth and swallowed. “Well, THANK YOU, Wendy. But I’m sure I’m not as _assertive_ or outspoken as YOU are, yet. Craig’s alllways talking about it at home to his guinea pig. Craig _likes_ your temper and the way you stand up to the teacher. In fact, he LOVES it.”

Craig, silently, stoically, dying, prayed for the marble floors of Token’s house to crack open and drop him into the Earth’s molten core.

Wendy, apparently not expecting the devil to be an eight year old girl, seemed frozen for a moment. She smiled graciously, if a little strained, and _thank God_ , changed the subject.

“That’s a great costume.”

Ruby smiled genuinely at that. She’d been working on her outfit for weeks. “Thank you. I’m one of the Sanderson sisters. But in real life my name’s Ruby.”

“Nice to meet you, Ruby. And, ooh. The Sandersons, huh?”

“Yeah, my friends were telling me about them when I moved here, and then we learned about them in class today, and about Kenny Binx, the boy who got turned into a cat? I was going to buy a stuffed cat for the costume, but I didn’t have enough time left.”

Wendy grinned enthusiastically. “That would have been a really nice touch. It’s just as well though.” A gleam of humor crossed her face “I bet the real Binx wouldn’t think very much of that.”

“The REAL one?” Ruby said, a note of eagerness in her voice.

Craig continued to stare at the two of them during this discussion, utterly out of his depth and wishing vainly that he’d never left the house this evening, or his bed this morning, or California ever. _Ruby. Even Ruby the demon-child has an easier time getting Wendy to like her than me. What IS MY LIFE._

“Well, yeah, the real one,” said Wendy, still not looking anywhere near Craig’s direction. Her solemn expression broke into a grin. “Well, probably not. But there definitely are sightings of a black cat around that property sometimes. Along with all sorts of other spooky coincidences.”

“Like what?” said Ruby, a rapt expression on her face.

“All sorts of things. My parents used to run it as a sort of historical museum, but too many safety problems kept popping up. It’s a shame, it was kind of cool.” Craig’s mind seized on that immediately. He wasn’t stupid. Here was his perfect chance.

“So let’s go check the place out,” he suggested, trying to sound calm and indifferent. “Maybe we’ll see something cool since it’s Halloween.”

Wendy’s gaze returned to him for the first time in minutes. “Oh. I- but aren’t you trick or treating-?”

“Oh, no. I’m too old for that. Just taking Ruby around.”

Wendy’s lips stretched into a quick smile. “Aw. That’s sweet, Craig.”

“My parents made him,” said Ruby flatly, staring Wendy down.

Wendy’s eyebrows flashed up and Craig wished Ruby wasn’t deliberately out of subtle kicking distance. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“So, yeah, let’s go check it out.” He thought fast. “C’mon Wendy. Make a believer out of me.” He paused, glancing over at the fancy dress party. “Unless you can’t leave…”

Wendy looked at him thoughtfully. “Oh, no. I can leave. In fact, Token encourages it. We both get bored to tears at this thing, but he likes to remind me that just because we’re together, that doesn’t mean I can’t cut out of here any time. He’s the only one stuck here on candy duty. I was just taking a turn so he could chill out for a minute.”

She licked her lips and glanced back toward the stairs. She looked back at Ruby, then at Craig. “Hm. You know what? I think I’ll take him up on that for once. Give me a minute to let him know, and change?”

Craig nodded, his head spinning. _Together. It’s not like I wanted to date her anyway, but how did I not know-_ “Sounds great,” he said.

Wendy stepped back up the stairs, and Ruby turned to Craig. “What’s with the face?”

“I’m not making a face.”

“You are and you better knock it off or she’ll think you’re into her and jealous.”

“But I’m not.”

“DUH. But then what’s the face for?” Ruby tapped her foot impatiently.

Craig frowned. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t know she was with Token. Or anyone. Like, she and Token act really close at school, but I never see them like. Kiss in the hallway or anything.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Seriously Craig? How do I know more about this than you? I don’t even go to your school and I’ve heard that Wendy Podbury is asexual.” At Craig’s blank stare, Ruby shook her head. “She’s with Token, but she doesn’t like a lot of touchy stuff. That’s why you don’t seem them getting personal up against a locker or whatever.”

Craig felt that this was simultaneously more information and less information than he could handle having right now.

“Oh.”

* * *

 

They set off across town, Craig wishing more with each step that he hadn’t suggested such a stupid thing. _A haunted witches’ house at night. And not just ANY night, but Halloween. And not just ANY witches, but ones that were SPECIFICALLY hung for **eating children**. What the fuck is wrong with you Dennison???_

Craig usually _avoided_ these kinds of stupid situations, not instigated them. _If only I wasn’t trying so hard to find a decent set of friends in this town-_

But there was no turning back now.

* * *

 

And on the other side of town, restless and tense, Kenneth Binx had taken up his silent annual vigil over the house where his friends had gone bad and his sister was killed. _No more,_ he swore to himself, his eyes sweeping the street restlessly. _Not like Kyle and Stan and Karen. Not **this** year-_

_not **any** year._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL. It has been awhile. I am sorry for that! Life's been wild and access to a quiet space to work has been iffy at best. That being said-- I hope those of you still reading liked this chapter. Next time; Craig meets Kenny and a few of his old friends~.
> 
> Meanwhile, chapter title this time is basically Craig's feelings about Wendy / most people he finds interesting. Points to anyone who guessed the asexual character was not Craig.


	5. Cat Flavored Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kenneth Binx ruminates on his past and his position like a broody feline Bruce Wayne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt like it was time in the story to make it clearer how much Binx and Kenny have in common.

Kenneth watched the pathway to the Witches’ house with rapt attention. This time of year, with its crisp, earthy-scented air, always woke his senses. He loved it for recalling him to an older time before his transformation, even as he cursed it for reminding him of his failures. He still hated himself every day for what happened to his friends and his family; but he supposed it was worth some celebration that his tireless devotion to this Hallows Eve vigil meant something. Three hundred years and untold attempts later, and no foolish virgins had accidentally succeeded in returning the Witches to this earthly plane.

Three hundred. Fucking. Years. His tail twitched at the unpleasant thought. Was this to be his fate forever? Was he to outlive everyone? Everything? Kenneth cast his eyes heavenward. Even the stars?

The idea was nigh unbearable. Immortality without insanity was difficult enough to maintain NOW- without people and evolving cultures to distract him, the task was impossible. What would he do without a kind hand to scratch behind his ears as he passed on the street? Without the chance to laugh at everything the History Channel got wrong about his time period, and all those since? It didn’t bear thinking about, so he took to examining a spider crawling nearby instead.

Kenneth Binx had not been left behind by the times. He watched as the popularity of printed materials rose, and learned to read something besides The Good Book when people left it out where he could see. He got fairly dexterous with his paws over the centuries too. (One had to, really, to get by.)

Then came the radio.

TV

 _THE INTERNET_.

So, yes, Kenneth Binx kept himself very busy when he wasn’t watching the Witches’ house, or catching or foraging or begging for food. He felt it worth spending the time to learn history and languages (though actually **_speaking_** them was more difficult- it had taken him a long enough time to work out how to make his feline vocal chords create human sounds.)

Yes, far too late, Kenneth eventually re-learnt his ability to speak. It was too late to explain himself to his father by several decades, and after that he had sense enough to know he could never show anyone. Especially with how the world had been changing...

And Kenneth knew all about that, through observation, and because he'd also learned to read books and newspapers. He watched TVs through people's windows, or on the armchairs of various kind, lonely souls over the years. He watched cooking shows and singing shows and documentaries about faraway places. He'd taught himself how to use computers, when there was one available, with some passing success...   He did everything he could to remain sane and quick-witted and mentally capable, honestly.

Kenneth sighed. _everything and anything_ , he thought numbly. He batted at a nearby leaf the wind whirled his way. _Oh, God I'm so fucking bored_. Kenneth snorted indelicately, thinking of how appalled his contemporaries would be with his current manner of expression. But like the printed word, discovery and technology, the world's norms had moved on, and Kenneth had moved with them.

He studied each new time period's culture, keeping up to date on slang and trends- he was always fascinated to see the trends that fashion and music cycled through, and the periods of social awareness and callousness that rose and fell in each age.

He’d had plenty of time. All the time in the world. And no one to _really_ fucking share it with.

Kenneth had spent more of his life as a cat than he ever had as a human, but he still FELT very human. An unfortunate side effect was that he had no desire to court any of the cats that had approached him over time. On good days he could let himself laugh, thinking of what Stan and Kyle would say about the second biggest whore in the village on a 300 year dry spell.

(On bad days? Well. On bad days thinking of them wasn’t possible at all.)

The point remained, nonetheless, that he was basically 300 years’ worth of riled up now, and it was like a vague, bothersome itch he had gotten used to ignoring. Much like other, more painful, _less pleasant_ urges that cropped up now and again…but the less said of those, the better.

Simply put, the first hundred years had not been this _easy_. And a fair deal more bitter, furious, isolating, and self-destructive. He tried not think on those dark times, before he’d found his purpose, watching over the old Sanderson homestead.

Kenneth’s eyes continued idly following the spider, and he briefly considered pouncing, but decided against it. Spiders could be decent practice for his reflexes, but unless someone made an attempt on the house, tonight was all about silent watching. He trained all year, kept himself sharp all year, for this night.

He ate well, he trained himself to be dexterous and healthy, not counting on immortality to keep his body from becoming decrepit from disuse. He learned about the world and each new wave of people in it. He twisted his curse to its very limits, determined that being forced into a cat’s body didn’t mean he wasn’t still human at the core, with real human feelings and motivations for his mission. It had taken a long time before he accepted how important that was. It had taken him even longer to think of ways to keep his humanity alive.

Finally, after years of distrust and bitterness over what the villagers had done the day of Karen’s death, Kenneth understood that he needed _people_ again. He scratched the wood of the house’s sill, now, remembering how hard it had been to force himself to walk back into the town that had failed Karen and kicked him away. He waited until his father died before he set foot there. If there were any nephews or nieces by his brother Kevin, Kenneth never knew them. It hurt too much to see what he’d missed.

So, slow as it was, he eased himself back into the company of people. It was two generations before he returned to South Salem, but he wandered to other towns in the meantime. He accepted affection from the people kind enough to house him for a night or two, and observed how they spoke and thought, how they showed the people around them care.  He watched families (with his heart in his throat) through their kitchen windows at night. He did anything that kept the memories of his own humanity alive; anything to help him remember why he didn’t just lie in gutter and wish for a death that was never coming.

He'd long since forgotten most of who he had been- was he funny? Was he kind? Was he anything at ALL anymore besides a conduit for turning evil magic to a good purpose? He didn't know. He hadn't had a soul to speak with in three centuries now.

The loneliness made Kenneth restless. So, besides his other pursuits, he also took the initiative to travel a little. He had seen something of the surrounding counties; but never gone much further- he could not risk being detained from his annual vigil over the Sanderson property.

Because those the _other_ things-human interaction, education, _all of it-_  were only distractions. They only served to keep him sane, keep him sharp, for what really mattered. But tonight? Here? This was everything. He didn't have the _right_ to be "bored".

This was his mission, his penance, his curse. Protect the town. Protect the world. Be the watchful protector they all needed- the one he'd **_failed_** to be back when Stan, Kyle, and KAREN had needed him.

It was all he was good for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY SO it's this time of the year again! I didn't forget this story, and I'd much prefer to FINISH it this year.  
> But, um...  
> GUYS. GUYS. I'M NOT USED TO WRITING CRAIG, OK? If anyone is reading this and saw the past chapters; Am I doing him justice? Should I bother to keep going to the part where they actually meet and have their adventure...? Do you like where it's all going so far? Leave a comment and lmk, please, if you get a chance.

**Author's Note:**

> First crossover, first Crenny. LOTS OF FIRSTS FOLKS and it's unbeta'd. Hope you like it so far!
> 
> AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!


End file.
